


nothing/numb/empty/alone/lonely/somebody help me

by takethebreadsticksandRUN



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Abandonment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Songfic, but he will save his bae, descent into the Lonely, episode 159 from Martin's point of view, jon isn't always there, martin wants to protect his friends, peter lukas is a douchebag, so is elias but we already knew that, technically jonah is the immortal idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:13:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethebreadsticksandRUN/pseuds/takethebreadsticksandRUN
Summary: Martin didn't really want to be in the Forsaken. At least, most of the time. Sometimes emptiness is the softest poison.orI have no excuse for writing this but I hope it hurts in the same way Martin was hurting.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	nothing/numb/empty/alone/lonely/somebody help me

**Author's Note:**

> helloooo there peoples of ao3! honestly this is the home of most of my socializing, kinda sad but y'all are great. this is a songfic (i think? pretty new to the world of fanfiction) based on mmxtoon's lovely song 'temporary nothing' it's a great song and totally a jonmartin song pre the scottish safe house period. let me know what you think!  
> xxx

The air was cold. At least, Martin thought it might be cold. It certainly should be chilly. The winds blowing off the ocean caressed his skin in a way that reminded him of winter, of lonely walks on the beach, pounding waves echoing softer than the yells in the kitchen. If he breathed in deep, the salt would sting his nose the same way his eyes burned. But now he truly was alone, in a place that should have been cold but was not really anything.

_How does it feel  
To feel nothing at all?_

The dull roar had faded into the background of his semi-consciousness, the rhythmic pushing and pulling of the ocean. Now, instead of just feeling lonely, he truly was Alone. Martin was quite sure nobody else occupied this particular landscape. It was probable the fog shrouded seaside existed only in his mind; possible he was trapped inside memories of abandonment.

_I imagine it's grey  
Like the world suddenly lost its color_

The shores were empty. He didn’t mind, he liked it better that way. He was alone, contemplating walking into the maybe frigid waves and never coming back. Nobody would miss him. Nobody had missed him. _I’ve been gone for months and months and who has asked if I was okay?_

The answer, at least as he saw it, was undesirably low. Low enough he could convince himself nobody would be damaged beyond repair if Martin never returned. Thoughts of his last encounter with Jon swirled drunkenly through an empty psyche. The harried look in his eyes, trying to convince him to join Jon in blindness. They wouldn’t be able to see, he had said, but they would be free. And maybe, just maybe, they could be free, together.

Stupid idea. Stupid thought. Stupid memories of stupid mistakes and stupid feelings and stupid-

_But I'd be lying if I said  
I hadn't wished to feel nothing  
To feel nothing at times_

He mentally dove into roaring rapids of what-ifs and could-have-been’s, surfacing when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Enjoying the view?” Peter seemed sharper here, outlined in deadly precision against the rolling fog and soft landscape.

Martin made a noncommittal noise, dragging himself out of the pit he knew would only bring pain. Easier to stay here, where nothing could be felt, and no one could be Seen.

“Yeah, I just… I’m letting go. I need to be ready for this. Can you-“

Lukas vanished before he could finish the question. “I’ll leave you alone. It’s better that way, isn’t it?” His voice echoed strangely, reverberating in a way unfamiliar to him.

It was easier to do this alone. That was the whole point of the place, wasn’t it? Forget everyone that ever hurt you, cut off the part of you that needed friends.

_Cause feelings are painful  
I don't wanna suffer through_

He breathed in. Sasha, Tim, his mother, Melanie, Basira, Daisy… He breathed out. They would be safe because of him. _Breathe in_. Let them slip away. _Breathe out_. Let everything go. _Breathe in_. Don’t think of him. _Breathe out_. Forget him. _Breathe in_.

_All those moments without you  
When I lost you_

Lungs settled into a steady rhythm, filling and releasing air slowly. Martin gradually became part of the fog, fingertips losing their substance first. Then his feet, his salt dampened hands, his legs leaving him. He disappeared the way you fall asleep. Slowly, then all at once.

_Anger and sadness  
They're always there_

As the mist reached his heart, stealing his feelings, he was almost grateful. Grateful he didn’t have to ache, mourning lost friends and broken people. Even the fear for what was going to happen to him, the resentment that burned when he thought of those who wouldn’t mourn him. All gone.

_They're always pretty rough  
To cope with_

He gasped slightly when the fog curled around his neck. A chill deeper than bone stretched corporeal fingers into his brain . He froze, finally able to stop thinking. Nothing mattered anymore. The world sank into a dull gray, leaving him completely and blissfully alone. He didn’t feel anything as he became totally encompassed by mist.

_Feelings oh feelings  
You tear me apart  
  
_

A sliver of doubt escaped the grasp of the Lonely. Was he doing the right thing? Martin wondered cautiously if the sacrifice was worth it. Leaving behind his life, his world, for solitude. Well, he had come this far. Keep everyone safe. Keep Jon safe. Risk the possibility of future filled with light and people and love-

_I wish I could start again  
Again_

He gave up, surrendering his heart and body to the tide. It washed out, leaving behind the shell of a man, bravely facing his fate alone. He wondered if this was called courage. Martin hoped so, desperate to prove himself in the eyes of those he believed to be the judges.

_But I know that there's the other side  
Can you feel? Can you feel?_

It was a selflessly selfish act, sacrificing himself for the hope his friends might not have to. Trading all his pain and worry for a gray nothing. Was he supposed to feel guilty? Panicked? Peaceful? Martin didn’t know, but when the sting of rejections past was removed, he felt relieved for all the wrong reasons.

_Feelings oh feelings  
You tear me apart_

Breathe in; breathe out. Refraining from thinking was no longer a chore. Soon he realized he had nothing left to forget, nobody else to abandon in his memories. Martin drifted to the waters edge, watching it lap against the rocks that, like so much else, blended into the seaside in a mottled gray.

_I wish I could start again  
Again_

Something nearby splashed. He paid it no mind, nobody else could be here. No one but him. More sounds soon echoed through the landscape, muffled talking, the rhythmic thumps of weary steps against sand. Somebody was walking towards him, somebody he used to know. “Jon?” he whispered.

“I’m here. I came for you.” The words hurt him in a way that didn’t make sense, startled him into solidity.

 ** _“_** Why?”

Jon’s face was tired and bruised, weary when he replied, ”I thought you might be lost. Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.” He didn’t understand. Martin couldn’t leave. This was going to save his friends, protect them.

“No. No, I don’t think so. This is where I should be. It feels right. Nothing hurts here. It’s just quiet. Even the fear is gentle here.”

_And I used to think  
That being numb would ease the pain_

“This isn’t right. This isn’t you.” It was easier to slip away now without the grips of what he had left behind.

“It is, though.” He turned again to mist, sinking into the ground as he said, “I really loved you, you know?”

Everything was the same uniform gray. Jon had come for him, but he couldn’t leave. This was home now.

_But I was wrong  
I was so wrong_

How had he found Martin? He was supposed to be unreachable, beyond the spyglass of the Ceaseless Watcher.

Sometime later, maybe an eternity, maybe moments later, his alone-ness was interrupted again. “He’s gone, Martin. He’s gone.” When he tried to disappear once more, tried to slip away, Jon looked at him. Saw, really Saw, him. “Listen to me. Really listen. I know you think it’s safer, and well – well, maybe it is. But we need you. I need you.” He scanned Martin’s face desperately, pleading with him.

“No, you don’t. Not really. Everyone’s alone, but we all survive.” His voice was soft, bent from misuse.

“I don’t just want to survive! Please, I need you,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry.” His throat began to warm, a warning from the Forsaken: _You need to be lonely, or your sacrifice will be worthless._

“Martin, Martin, look at me.” He struggled to focus on Jon, trying to tell himself he doesn’t have to be alone anymore. “Look at me and tell me what you see.

A shuddering gasp filled his lungs with the taste of tears; with herculean effort he stared into his eyes.

“I see-“ Martin’s voice broke as his walls did too. “I see you, Jon. I see _you._ ”

It's _just better to feel  
And know you're alive_

A sliver of hope crept in, tugging him out of the fog. “I was on my own.” His mind cleared of the dull gray. “I was all on my own.” The waves sprayed his face with saltwater, stinging his eyes. Were they already stinging? He didn’t know.

Jon took his hand. “Not anymore. Come on, let’s go home.”

“ _Home._ ” The word tasted of strawberries in the spring, of the comforting warmth from fresh bread, clear water rinsing away an old pain.

They climbed out of the Lonely together. The sun danced on his face, reminding him of experiences he had forgotten.

_Remind yourself that pain is temporary  
Oh it won't last for long_


End file.
